


Cherry Cake

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Food Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: After Éowyn's death, Faramir takes a boat ride and accidently washes ashore in Valinor.Finarfin brings him cake, and somehow they end up discussing older brothers.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: Spring Renewal 2020





	Cherry Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the April 16th prompt, any, any, with a cherry on top.

"My daughter tells me you like your cake with a cherry on top," Finarfin said as he placed a piece of cake on the table in front of Faramir.

Faramir himself felt nothing but lost at the sight. If it had not been enough to become lost at sea - and at least it had been after his dearest Éowyn's death, so that she was not mourning his loss even as Aragorn and the Hobbits doubtless were now, without even considering the children - he was more than certain he had never discussed cake flavors with the Lady Galadriel in enough detail that she should have recalled such to mention to her father. 

Nor, come to think of it, should she have had any reason to mention his favorite cake toppings to her father. 

Faramir felt tears come to his eyes. He forced them down and a smile to his face. "I appreciate your and your daughter's consideration and kindness, Sire."

"It is understandable if you wish to mourn," Finarfin said. 

"I have far less reason than others to, when I have found my way to this island and can still count myself lucky enough to be reunited with my loved ones one day." Faramir took a bite of the cake, forcing himself to swallow it. It tasted more than good, and that was enough to make it turn his stomach. 

"You do not have to eat the cake now, either." Finarfin took a seat at the table. "I understand well how good food and these shores can feel more of a curse than a comfort when your loved ones dwell in death or foreign lands." 

Of course. Faramir had somehow managed to forget that for all he still mourned his family, this elf had lost more. It was still unclear to Faramir, though he had heard whispered conversations between other elves, why Fingolfin had yet to return to life. At least for the others, there was some semblance of an explanation, even if Elrond seemed offended by some of those explanations. 

"I am sorry for your losses," he said after a pause. 

"And I am sorry for yours." Finarfin paused as well, before shaking his head, the gold circlet glinting in the sunshine. "My daughter has told me that your brother was a brave man whose desperation led him astray when Gorthaur's foul ring was found. If you wish to discuss brothers who met ill ends through desperate actions, I am perhaps the most qualified in Valinor."

Faramir looked down at his cake. Then he placed his fork on the plate, even as Finarfin claimed a piece of his own. "While I will not speak judgment of your half-brother, all say that Fingolfin was one of the most brave elves to ever live."

"He was," Finarfin said, taking a bite of his cake. "He was also driven to despair and desperation by the losses in the final battle before his death, until he could see no end but to throw himself against Morgoth's gate and die before them."

Faramir had to admit, if only to himself, that he had wondered reading those histories if that final charge had been as much seeking the release of death as an attempt to win. He himself had done much the same, even if he had been driven by a need for his father's approval, after all. Faramir drew himself from those thoughts as he remembered what he had been told of Galadriel's skills, and wondered if her father had much the same. 

Finarfin was still eating his cake as he watched Faramir, who could not tell if his thoughts had been percieved. 

"My brother's fate was not that similar to your brother's death," Faramir said at last.

"Do you fear Boromir more similar to my eldest brother? For Fëanáro was lost to Morgoth's lies, and while your brother did not kill Frodo, he did threaten him." Finarfin's gaze was steady as he looked at Faramir, who met his eyes even as he did not want to. 

Faramir took a breath. "My brother was a good man who wished to protect our people."

"He was, by all accounts I have heard of him," Finarfin agreed. "And Fëanáro was a good elf in many aspects. He loved his sons and our father, but he was driven to the madness he committed by that love. And still I believe that even to the end he truly thought he was doing what was best."

"Boromir regretted his actions." Faramir took a gulp of wine. Boromir had. Aragorn had said such, and he would not have lied. Nor would the Hobbits have, in all the letters they had exchanged. 

"Child, even if your brother had killed Frodo, he would not have been irredeemably evil, nor would you have been forced to hate him or fall into such ills yourself." Finarfin smiled, the same smile Faramir had worn on numerous occasions when discussing Boromir after his death. "Or do you judge me for still loving Fëanáro, who killed my wife's kin? Or for loving Nolofinwë, who led my sons to their deaths across the Ice and killed himself in a suicidal charge after two of them were burned?"

"I am no child." Faramir could think of nothing else to say, faced with another who had lost so much.

"My uncle still calls me child on the occasion he has a chance to comfort me. I am afraid that if you wish to be considered an old man, you have come to the wrong place, especially as you do not look as the old men my son speaks of did." Finarfin took another bite of his cake, drawing attention to it by waving his fork through the air beforehand. 

It was odd to speak to a King of Elves and realize that he spoke of Finrod, whose ring still rested on the hand of the King of Gondor (actually, Faramir thought, had not the histories said that Finarfin had given the ring to his son, so said ring had once belonged to him) and that Finrod spoke of Men whose bones had been lost to the seas even before Númenor existed. 

Faramir took a breath. He had not felt the urge to lay down his life when he had departed his lands, and he did not feel the urge to now. If he was old, he was not yet elderly, and perhaps that was enough to grant him time here.

"If you wish something, you need only ask," Finarfin said after a moment. 

"May I see the libraries?" Faramir asked first. It seemed the safer option, when Mithrandir had mentioned such on his visit. 

"Yes." Finarfin continued to look at him, other than a brief glance at Faramir's piece of cake. 

Faramir took a bite from the cake. The taste of cherries filled his mouth, like the ones Boromir had bought at quite an expense for Faramir's twelfth birthday and smuggled into the city. 

"May we discuss brothers more, if you have the time?" Faramir asked after swallowing. The cake did not upset his stomach this time, even as he remembered his brother spoiling him with treats. 

"I would enjoy that," Finarfin said. "I must attend a meeting with the Valar for the next two days, but I shall be free after that."

"Thank you." Faramir continued to eat his cake, drawing a smile from Finarfin. 

"Perhaps we shall discuss fathers one day as well, if you wish. I would have these lands hold what healing they may for all who have come here." Finarfin stood, fiddling with the clasp on his cloak. 

Denethor was a painful thought. But there was little way to discuss Boromir without discussing their father as well. "Perhaps."

Finarfin rested a hand on Faramir's shoulder. "I have found that it is best to not ignore the memories, even when they hurt. And perhaps it says too much of what lives we have led, but when love holds pain, I have found it to often be the deepest loves."

Faramir nodded. He could not bring himself to speak. 

"I shall leave the cake. Look for my return three days hence, and then we shall speak more."

Finarfin's cloak trailed behind him as he walked, a blue wave brushing over the grass.

And this time the wave brought no fear or doom.


End file.
